


Curing Grumpiness

by Reality 2_0 (reality_2_0)



Category: Political RPF - US 21st c.
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 03:49:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8430670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reality_2_0/pseuds/Reality%202_0
Summary: set 2016; Campaigning separately might be effective, but it has side effects.





	

According to Huma, more than one aide of her husband had tried to get in touch with her, but since they hadn’t cited an emergency of any kind – medical or otherwise – the campaign activities had taken priority over checking in with them. After she had called back personally, she had made it clear to her team that getting home in the evening, no matter how late, was a necessity for her and not debatable. It was obvious that not everybody was happy about that decision, even though they tried to mask it. However, she didn’t exactly care in this case. She had a matter of utter importance to attend to.

She should have known this would happen when they had composed the schedules, but apparently, they still hadn’t learned their lesson. She would have to make sure to keep a closer eye on that in the future.

If it had only been for his aides having to put up with a grumpy boss, she probably would have shrugged it off or made a call. She did know, though, that Bill Clinton in a bad mood was like a tired Bill Clinton: likely to make mistakes and/or blow up. Since they didn’t need a gaffe at all, it was up to her to soothe the waters. Even though it messed up her plans which would result in an earlier morning and a longer trip for her tomorrow, it wasn’t exactly a hardship for she preferred to sleep in her own bed and relished his company; it did charge her batteries, too. She just lasted longer without a recharge than he did.

When she arrived at their Chappaqua home, it was already past 11pm. According to the light, her husband was still up. Chances were he was sitting on the couch, reading a book or some papers, refusing to go to bed because he didn’t feel like sleeping alone. Of course, it was childish, but she knew the feeling of the bed appearing too big, too cold, too uncomfortable when one had nobody to share it with.

Quietly as to not alert him to her presence just yet, she entered the house, dropped her bag, coat and shoes in the foyer and sought out the reason for her being there.

She had to smile when she found him exactly where she had expected him to be: sitting on the couch, sheets of paper and a book scattered around him in organized chaos, the TV running. With his back to the door, he hadn’t noticed her, yet – a fact she made use of by sneaking up on him.

She slid her hands over his shoulders to his chest, hugging him from behind.

He jumped at the unexpected touch, but relaxed a moment later when he had identified the “attacker”.

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” he asked as he covered her hands on his chest with his.

Placing a kiss on the top of his head, she didn’t react to his question, but said, “I hear you’ve been growling at innocent aides. Missed me?”

“You know damn well I did,” he said, admitting the obvious.

She freed her hands from his grasp and walked around the couch to plop down next to him. Without sparing the tumbling papers a thought, he immediately drew her into his arms, hugging her close, kissing her deeply.

For a while, no words were spoken as they snuggled close and surrendered to the exhaustion each was feeling. Eventually, a loud yawn from her broke the silence.

Rubbing her back, he said, “You didn’t have to come home.”

“Yes, I did.”

“Not because-“

She shot him a look that stopped his protest.

“Thank you,” he said instead.

“Always.” She tightened her arms around him as another yawn escaped her. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he said, echoing her yawn. “I guess we should move this party to the bedroom.”

“Slumber party.”

“Definitely,” he confirmed. “Everything else will have to wait until tomorrow morning.”

“Promises, promises,” she mumbled cheekily as she slowly got up.

“Hey.” He smacked her bottom lightly. “I’d make you pay for that one, but I’m too damn tired.”

She laughed lowly under yet another yawn. “Trust me, so am I. Rain check?”

“Rain check. Go ahead,” he told her. “I’ll be right there. Gotta pick up the papers first.”

“Remember to turn off the lights.”

“Yes, dear.”

After another peck, she made her way to the bedroom, leaving a man in her wake who was happily looking forward to spending the night holding her.

The End.


End file.
